Ah, the aroma. . .

. . . of the whiskey sour fountain, the processed roast beef, the gargantuan plastic bowls of potato chips and pretzels, draft National Boh (or Pabst Blue Ribbon) and finally the Pièce de résistance, the sloe gin fizz. Yes, the sloe gin fizz; that bright red, sweet, satisfying concoction with a kick; at least for an adolescent. Yes, gloriously my entry into the world of 'professional' music was accompanied by an introduction to alcohol. (I am reminded of the Barenaked Ladies song, ALCOHOL.) In those days, the local, legal drinking age was 18, which I was not quite yet, and the practice of requiring ID before serving alcohol was not widespread and certainly not commonplace inside the doors of catering halls. Not that I was inebriated every time we played, though I may have, on occasion, consumed enough to mildly affect my performance abilities. But that was rare.

The band, now know as REFLECTION, was the 'house' band at the Harbor Inn. This meant that when the firm contracted for a wedding reception, bull roast, dance or bar mitzvah (the Jewish population had mostly abandoned East Baltimore for the Pikesville area by then), management offered the services of the fine young combo REFLECTION for music at the affair. This meant relatively regular work for the band and as a byproduct of that, an opportunity to refine our performance. In addition to the Harbor Inn, we were able to accept work at other, similar venues which meant I was actually earning money; earning money for doing something that I loved. It doesn't get much better than that. . . or DOES IT?




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The stars lay. . .

. . . in a blanket above. A gentle breeze blowing in from the sea. The last light flickers from one lonely candle. Never before was a night half as perfect for you and me. But there was a party last night. Yes there was a party next door cause there's a boy sleeping on the back porch.

You would have noticed a pin drop that evening. The peace and calm when romance fills the air. Ambience oozing from Coltrane and Hartman. And barely twenty feet away we'd no clue what was happening there. But there was a party last night. Yes there was a party next door cause there's a boy sleeping on the back porch.

No blaring rock and roll; no bottles on the walk. No screaming, shouting and no fights. Nobody called the law; no sirens in the night. Just one young man stretched out on a chaise sleeping it off.

Occasions such as this should be savored. The combination of circumstance rare. You may just be the true love that I've searched for. I think though, that the folks in the house that's next door just don't care. But there was a party last night. Yes there was a party next door cause there's a boy sleeping on the back porch.

BACK PORCH (from "Critic's Choice")
©2005 Raymond M. Jozwiak


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How many times. . .

. . . has someone said to you that they wish they could return to their childhood? I know I've heard it many. Sometimes I even think that maybe I would like to return to mine.

Take this week for example. First, we have an earthquake. A REAL, BONIFIDE EARTHQUAKE!! Right here on the east coast. And it wasn't just one of those earthquakes you hear about on the news the next day. I felt the earth shake. More than once. And everyone else in town felt it as well. Evacuation of the downtown buildings was automatic and simultaneous. It was like a huge block party - without the party (unfortunately). And when it occurred to me to inform my wife via cellphone and couldn't even connect to a working cell, I realized just how big the thing really was! That's not even mentioning the aftershock around 1AM Thursday morning.

Well, we all seemed to survive that well enough. Even managed to laugh a little about the 'severity' of the quake as pointed out on the internet by some west coast resident who is much more familiar with such occurrences and probably of much greater severity. So we plow onward through our workweek only to find out that a hurricane is due to affect our area by the weekend. And not just ANY hurricane! This baby is huge, strong and slow moving. Don't know what stats are available yet, but this storm (Irene, by name) will probably be one for our recordbooks based upon sheer size and strength. And its now Saturday night and she has arrived, so I'm listening to the rain slashing at the window and the wind howling outside as I write.

But sleep overcame me during the above, so I can now tell you that we appear to have come through this one alright. At least from the perspective of my house. Lots of leaves and small tree branches litter the area and the wind is still gusting, but I would dare to say we have another few hours and it'll be over.

WHFEWW!!!! Life goes one. Today I gotta replace the pull-cord of the ceiling fan in Harrison's room FOR THE THIRD TIME!!! Return to my childhood you ask??

Not me. NNNAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!




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This is really cool. . .

There was a standing room only crowd, with actress Renee Zellweger in the audience, for the dedication of the new Ellis Marsalis Center for Music, the centerpiece of Habitat for Humanity's Musicians Village project in the Ninth Ward.

Harry Connick Jr. and Branford Marsalis played key roles in developing the Musicians Village, and the center, but as performers, they called this hall acoustically perfect.

"You're in the middle of the Upper 9th Ward," said Connick. "You've got the highest level of state-of-the-art technical facility here. it is like all these worlds coming together."

"You could bring a string quartet in here, and they could play without one shred of amplification, and everybody in here could hear every note in here regardless of the volume," raved Marsalis.

"You could also bring Dr. John in here with his full band, and people would love every minute of it."

The main performance hall has state-of-the-art recording equipment that is even a boost for Hollywood South.

"We have a facility like that with big screen projection capabilities, and these incredible acoustics, they can actually record the score of an entire movie here," said Jim Pate of Habitat For Humanity.

But it is also a community center, with meeting rooms, computer labs, and classrooms to train future music stars.

"We've got a couple of schools that we've partnered with in the Upper 9th Ward, with a lot of children that are interested in coming," said Center Executive Director Michele Jean-Pierre.

Opening the Ellis Marsalis Center is the culmination of the Habitat for Humanity Musicians' Village project that started in March 2006, just seven months after Katrina. At that time, this was an empty lot, now it's a community.

They built 72 homes and ten duplexes here, and Habitat work is continuing at sites throughout the city.






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Thinking about it all. . .

. . . and and doing very little about it . . .

Rick Perry's philosophy of abstinence for all homosexuals; Yani Tseng taking the golf world by storm; Hurricane Irene, a literal STORM which will have a large effect on the entire east coast this very weekend; preparing another music release and all the exhilaration, stimulation, appreciation, enjoyment, satisfaction, heartache and rejection that comes along with THAT; a concert gig at a vineyard being eagerly anticipated; the economy and (hopefully one day) a retirement; getting enough sleep. . . HOW CAN I with all THIS to think about????




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There's no business. . .

. . . like Show Business (that's TWO words you know) . . .

There are so many folks out there so ready, willing and able to 'help' the struggling artist that it boggles the mind. The latest one I've encountered led me merrily around the mulberry bush about being featured on their syndicated radio show in August. Many emails (and mp3 transfers) later, turns out they couldn't fit me in. But September was right around the corner. Several emails regarding September have transpired when finally this week, I am informed that in order to be featured, I must purchase 30-seconds of commercial time for $300, at the end of my feature. Unfortunately, after consulting with my accountant and business manager (this in reality, took very little time since I hold both positions personally), it was determined that $300. was not in the budget. When informing this firm of my decision on the newly-revealed $300 commercial requirement, which was never mentioned in my correspondence with this 'helpful' group which began on July 31st, this is what I got in response:

"I don't know why you are surprised. A syndicated radio show has the following cost:
* studio time
* engineer
* editor
* host (for us- 2 for each format)
* scriptwriter
* Booker
And that is just to do the show, not the online magazine, the charts, etc. So, are they suppose to work for free?

Show Business is two words. [We have] been around for seven years, helping Indie artist get more exposure. Everyone connected has a track record of working with some of the best in the industry. That is why it has been successful because everyone is good at their careers and a quality product is produced. But just like any aspect in the media ----TV, magazine, newspapers, radio --- commercials and advertising keep them running.

[We try] to keep the cost down for the Indie artists and everyone knows that $300. for a commercial that airs that length of time on a syndicated radio show is extremely reasonable. [We] also know that in this day and age the economy is hard and some Indie artist do not have it. We understand budget restrictions.

Just out of curiosity, why do you think people should work for free? I have never understood that concept.

Best of luck to you and your music."

. . . and after the aforementioned consultation with my 'staff', we have determined that (after meticulous analysis of incoming vs outgoing) my books prove that I, for one, do indeed
WORK FOR FREE!





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earthquake, schmearthquake. . .

. . . they said on the west coast.

Well, maybe. I don't understand 'shallow' earthquakes compared to 'deep'(?) ones, but if the fact that it was 'shallow' was to our benefit, I hope to never experience one of the 'other' variety.

(from Jacob Adelman, The Associated Press)
". . ."Really all this excitement over a 5.8 quake??? Come on East Coast, we have those for breakfast out here!!!!" wrote Dennis Miller, 50, a lifelong California resident whose house in Pleasanton sits on an earthquake fault line.

On Twitter and Facebook and over email, people circulated a photo of a table and four plastic lawn chairs in a serene garden setting. One of the chairs flipped on its back. The mock image carried the title "DC Earthquake Devastation."

All the more laughable for some were the images of people fleeing buildings — the exact opposite of what you're supposed to do in a quake.

"Hey East Coast, the entire West Coast is mocking you right now," tweeted Todd Walker, an Anchorage TV anchorman.

Later Tuesday, a small earthquake centered near Oakland shook the San Francisco Bay area. The magnitude 3.6 quake struck at about 11:36 p.m. PDT and was also felt by people across the bay in San Francisco.

The tough earthquake talk comes from a coast that is apparently jaded by its own seismic activity — or perhaps not as experienced as it imagines itself to be.

Tuesday's quake was the East Coast's largest since 1944. California alone has seen 35 quakes of that size since then, and since Japan's massive 9.0 quake on March 11, that country has experienced 93 aftershocks that registered more than magnitude-6.0. . ."




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